


Magnetic Hearts

by zhangjuns (kwangerine)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, This IS Fluff I Swear, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, justin is that annoying but endearing best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwangerine/pseuds/zhangjuns
Summary: Since the dawn of time, the bond of soulmates both captivated and confused. On one’s sixteenth birthday, a heart-shaped mark will appear on their left wrist, what we call their "imprint." When two fated soulmates touch, their imprints will color in themselves, usually pink, as to identify the person as "found." However, through tests and experiments, it seems as though these imprints will only "work" after 10:10 am on the younger soulmate’s birthday. Because of this, 10:10 is often thought of the time for soulmates to meet.We still do not fully understand the science behind this phenomenon, but perhaps this is all up to Destiny and her plans for us as a race.__Zhangjing wishes his heart will connect to Yanjun's.





	Magnetic Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first (zhangjun) fic and im highkey excited to post this! im sorry in advance for any typos or grammatical errors uwu
> 
> twt: yanjun_co

It’s times like these where Zhangjing’s thoughts roam freely, mostly to the places they wouldn’t normally go when he’s awake enough to catch them before they do.

The blue light of Yanjun’s laptop flatters his profile in the most confusing way. His pores and acne scars are illuminated in a pale glow, and his chapped lips part to let out grumbling breaths. His dyed blue hair looks like ice, rivaling the warmth of their connected sides and breaths against the crook of Zhangjing’s neck. Then, there’s the sharp slope of his jawline, his long eyelashes, and his cheeks that hold endearing dimples whenever he smiles. Zhangjing closes Yanjun’s laptop and slides it aside.

Destiny doesn't do charity work—to destine a love-stricken fool with the cause of his love-strickenness—but Zhangjing likes to believe those lingering looks aren’t just a product of his delusional mind. He likes to believe their years of friendship won’t be thrown out the window if he confessed. He likes to believe his friend was just as stuck in the closet as he is. And he likes to believe he isn’t selfish, disregarding the other’s feelings in favor of his own desires.

Thinking is tiring.

Zhangjing agrees, as he nods off, head dropping lightly onto Yanjun’s, and, somehow, their sleepy hands are drawn together like two opposite poles of a magnet.

 

* * *

_"What if I never meet them? What if they live in Poland, or, worse, Antarctica?"_

_“Your soulmate is not a penguin. Interspecies soulmate-ship doesn’t exist, or at least I hope. If all goes wrong, you can come live with me and_ my _soulmate for the rest of your lonely life."_

_"Easy for you to say. You're the one with the mark on your wrist."_

_"And you're getting yours tomorrow. Stop worrying, Zhangjing. Wrinkles aren’t a good look on you."_

 

* * *

 

Light shines in through the curtains, orange and red shapes reflecting onto the ceiling and walls. It would have been a pretty sight if it wasn’t for the room spinning like a carousel and Zhangjing’s phone blaring from the coffee table in front of him. Zhangjing pulls himself upright despite the pain and nausea rising up his throat. (He doesn’t forget to carefully unwrap Yanjun’s fingers from around his.)

Zhangjing shakes the sleeping boy with as much strength as he can muster, his free hand rubbing the back of his sore neck. He suddenly regrets not moving the both of them into Yanjun’s bedroom last night to sleep. “Yanjun, we’re late. Get up, or I’ll go without you.”

Yanjun groans but extends his arms in a silent request for Zhangjing to help him, nevertheless. The brunette huffs and takes them, albeit a bit reluctantly. Yanjun jumps up. Their pink duvet pools onto the hardwood floor. Zhangjing watches dumbly as Yanjun staggers into the bathroom, fumbling for the light switch. His left wrist aches.

 

* * *

 

_"If I didn’t know any better, I would think Justin is your secret admirer.”_

_“He’s a child.”_

_“So, you’re saying he’s your baby.”_

_“I’m going to throw up. Stop it.”_

 

* * *

 

For Justin to cling to Zhangjing the moment he steps into first period is not unexpected. He’s a golden retriever, blonde hair and all. Zhangjing couldn’t even manage a goodbye to Yanjun, who had all the different classes from him, before being dragged away oh-so-rudely, though he’s sure the other didn’t even notice, his attention put on the girl who came up to him almost immediately after Zhangjing was pulled into the classroom. Their laughter echoes in his ears. Who is she?

Justin sheepishly shoves a small bag into Zhangjing's hands, pulling him out of his thoughts. "For you," Justin beams, dropping a large palm onto his shoulder. "Open it later."

Without even opening the tag on its handle, Zhangjing can visualize the chicken scratch of his name along with the scribble of "happy birthday" and a poorly drawn caricature underneath. Maybe it’s the fact that someone finally acknowledged it was his birthday (or Justin's comforting smile), but his body clears of all previous waves of nausea. Zhangjing takes a well-needed deep breath.

"Thanks, Justin.” There’s an eye-crinkling grin on his face. “And this is probably well overdue, but thank you for your daily wake up calls, also. I don’t know how I could’ve gotten so far this year if it weren’t for those."

"No problem." Justin shakes his head like a dog wagging out its fur after a bath. "You told me you were staying over at Yanjun’s last night, so I made sure to call you with even shorter time intervals in between each one. I don’t know what crap you guys get up to together, but you sleep like a log whenever you’re with him."

Justin quickly moves onto another conversation topic, but Zhangjing squints, still caught up on the blonde’s last sentence. Was he implying something?

 

* * *

 

_"You have to stop sending me snaps during class. I will literally throw my phone out the window the next time you send me something.”_

_“Is this about Mr. Zhang confiscating your phone yesterday?”_

_“Yes! He even threatened to make me give it to him every start of the day for ‘safe keeping.’”_

_“Who told you not to put your phone on vibrate?”_

_“And who told you to go on your phone during class? Wait, no one did and especially not the rules. Forgot you didn’t care about them.”_

_“Bitter.”_

 

* * *

 

The class lets out a collective sigh of relief when they walk in and see a substitute sitting in the usual place of their fourth-period teacher. Justin squeals in joy, while Zhangjing just plops down in a seat near the back. As it’s turning to summer, there’s always a lingering stuffiness in the air, and being in direct sunlight, the fifth-floor history room is torture. No canceling of the history exam they were going to have today or indifferent substitute could make Zhangjing any less miserable to be sitting in the classroom he’s in right now.

“Zhangjing, you have to see what Yanjun just sent me.”

Zhangjing glances up from his half-finished pre-calc homework. “I thought I told him—Justin, put your phone away!”

“Everyone else has their phone out, except for you,” replies Justin, rolling his eyes. He leans over the desk and snorts. “Math?” A large smile on his face, he reaches for Zhangjing’s pencil.

Zhangjing jerks away the second their hands brush pass each other like an electric shock just ran through him. He feels a heat spread across his face and down his neck (and maybe near the bottom of his palm if he focuses enough.) The clock ticks. _10:23._ The two meet eyes, one with confusion and the other with dreaded nervousness. Zhangjing’s gaze trails down to his wrist.

Empty.

"Oh my God.” Zhangjing slides down his seat, eyes barely visible over the top of the desk.

Justin laughs. He pulls down his sleeve and bares his imprint, filled in and yellow—a platonic soulmateship—to which Zhangjing sputters at. “I can’t believe you would even _think_ I was your other half. Have some faith in yourself. I know you’ve been waiting for a special _someone_."

Zhangjing fans his red face with his homework. So, Justin _does_ know. “Oh, shut up.”

 

* * *

 

_"What if this is all a government project used to brainwash us from the horror that is the real world? What if we're all living in the illusion that we’re being led to our significant other halves when it’s just a way to keep the human population thriving?"_

_"Is everything okay, Zhangjing? You’re asking an awful lot of ‘what if’s tonight."_

_“I just… Play the movie already.”_

 

* * *

 

“Slow down. You’re going to choke.”

There are hasty, moist chews of a mixture of flour, cheese, and tomatoes. “No."

Zhangjing and Justin stare at each other, unmoving.

As always, Zhangjing cracks first. "Fine, fine."

"See, this is what Yanjun always talks about," Justin says, rather loudly that it makes a few tables around them look up. Zhangjing’s cheeks paint with a sheen of pink, whether it is from the unwanted attention of ten people or the mention of He Who Shall Not Be Named. "You don’t know how to take care of yourself so everyone pampers you.” Justin punctuates the statement by dabbing the corners of Zhangjing’s mouth with a tissue. Zhangjing’s eyebrows furrow.

“Speaking of Yanjun, where even is he?” The spot in front of Zhangjing, usually taken by the blue-head, is glaringly empty today.

Justin rests his chin on his palm, probably missing the fries and insults that would be thrown at him. “With Cheng Xiao.”

Cheng Xiao. Zhangjing connects the name with the face he saw in the morning. Cheng Xiao? How has he never heard of her? Has he just been so engrossed in the other that he never took notice of all the times he snuck her into the conversation? Zhangjing mentally slaps himself. He’s never gotten jealous over any of Yanjun’s other friends before. Why start now?

Zhangjing looks down at his remaining slice of pizza. He suddenly doesn’t want to eat anymore.

 

* * *

 

_"Earth to You Zhangjing? Is there something on my face? Hello?”_

_“Did you just sneeze on me?”_

_"Sorry. And, hey, it woke you up!"_

_"That's it; I'm leaving. Watch this movie by yourself, Lin Yanjun."_

_"You’re not actually going to leave. I know you."_

_"Yes, I will_ — _"_

 _"_ Stay. _"_

 

* * *

 

As it's growing closer to the end of the school day, Zhangjing’s mood dwindles exponentially. He has tried touching hands with almost everyone he knows, gaining amused looks in response, but nothing ever even twitched. He really didn't want to do it—to act so desperate—but he needed a sign, anything to let him get rid of all the false hope he had. Yeah, he was hopelessly in love. But blame the way he always gives up on things, even if they have the smallest amount of potential.

Zhangjing’s leg bounces against the metal bottom of his desk. The clock ticks even slower to mock his impatience. But then the bell rings, and he bolts to homeroom. The bag Justin gave him that morning is still clutched tightly in his hand. It slaps against his thigh with every leap he takes, until he finally walks through the doorway and he sees the person he's been thinking about the entire day. He’s talking to Cheng Xiao, and Zhangjing momentarily freezes because he’s never seen her in homeroom despite there being only two months left of school. Perhaps it’s because he’s almost never _awake_ in homeroom in the first place, as shown by his tendency to wake up literally half an hour before school started and dozing off in the thirteen minutes it allowed, both morning and in the afternoon.

Cheng Xiao and Yanjun are doubling over in laughter at something Yanjun said. ( _Probably one of his stupid puns_ , Zhangjing thinks.) Then, Yanjun looks up, and his smile grows at the sight of his best friend. Zhangjing hurriedly avoids his gaze and dimples, sitting down in his seat. He couldn’t be trusted to deal with this so late in the game, not when if he just opens his mouth, everything is going to fumble out before he can stop the waterfall.

Zhangjing settles for pretending he doesn’t hear the multiples calls of his name from the boy sitting down two rows from him. Instead, he fixes his attention onto Justin's birthday gift. He was right about the chicken scratch written in the tag on the handle, and he reaches a hand in, feeling two small metal pieces. He lays them out on his palm. They're magnets—pink and blue and shaped like hearts. Zhangjing opens the card that came with them:

  
  
_To bday boy,_

_Here are some magnets to help you start getting in the habit of using that whiteboard you have in your room for whatever reason. Start by putting up a reminder to go to sleep on time. I can’t keep calling you @ 7:30 am again and again and again until you answer. I’m not your damn alarm app (which idk why you don’t use. It’s so much more reliable than me.)_

_Please give me and my phone bill some mercy. Use these._

__  
_Your helpless friend,_ _  
_ _Justin_

 

  
The bell rings once again, signaling the complete end of the school day. Zhangjing smiles. He shoves the magnets in his pocket for safe-keeping.

 

* * *

 

_"Haven't you ever thought about that empty mark on your wrist?"_

_"No, it's kind of just there. I'm going to meet them one day, anyway, or maybe their birthday hasn't come yet. Not really worried about it."_ _  
_

_"You seem really sure, Yanjun."_ _  
_

_"Because Destiny is sure."_

 

* * *

 

Yanjun finds him at the kid's playground near the school. It's nonchalant, the way he plops down on the swing next to Zhangjing, puts a hand on his shoulder and shoots him a small smile. He isn't breathing hard or face red like he's been looking for him everywhere. Yanjun always knew where to find him, whether it be in one of their special hangout places together, like the roof of Zhangjing's apartment building, or secret, like the abandoned parking lot near Yanjun's house.

Here, the playground, was where Zhangjing and Yanjun first met when they were six, Zhangjing tripping over Yanjun's foot and forcing him to apologize. It was a funny memory the two looked back on fondly, laughing at the fact that then, Zhangjing was still taller than Yanjun. It's a complete change now. Is that why Zhangjing feels so small all of a sudden?

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You ignored me during homeroom."

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay."

There is a silence, the tension in the air feeling thicker than the weight in Zhangjing's stomach. A gust of wind blows through his hair.

Yanjun speaks up. "So, have you found your soulmate yet?"

Zhangjing feels the other scoot closer, and he chews on his bottom lip furiously. He wills his body and mind to slow down before it goes into overdrive. “No.” His feet draw shaky patterns into the rubber floor.

"Is that why you look so down? Literally?"

Zhangjing looks up at his friend’s dry attempt of lifting the mood, chuckling and finally meeting the other’s glossed over brown eyes. “I…” He trails off, feeling a sudden, harsh rush of butterflies in his stomach. The words he’s been meaning to say to Yanjun since he saw him in homeroom bubble in his throat. "Can I try something?" he finds himself asking, mouth moving before his brain does.

It’s one of those rare moments Yanjun goes completely silent before answering. "Go ahead."

Zhangjing takes Yanjun's hand with no resistance surprisingly and carefully intertwines their fingers. The imaginary wall that was erected between them crashes down. Everything seems crystal clear at that moment—his feelings, his thoughts, his relationships. Like a vine, something starts spiralling up the two's arms. There’s a burst of light from the heart-shaped imprints on their wrists, and slowly, they fill in a baby pink, followed by the thumping organs in their chest, and pink hearts are formed.

Their connected hands fall, swinging in the space between them. It’s the calm after the storm. Zhangjing's lungs fill with fresh air. He savors every breath, every second that passes, and most of all, the dimples that show themselves on Yanjun's cheeks. He missed them.

“Who’s Cheng Xiao?’

Yanjun is confused at first, but then a smirk stretches across his face. “You mean Justin’s soulmate? We’re just project partners. Don’t think I didn’t see you glaring at her.”

Zhangjing curses Justin under his breath for keeping something so important from him and Yanjun for embarrassing him and making him a bright red.

“Oh, and Zhangjing?”

“Yeah?”

Yanjun squeezes his hand. “Happy birthday.”

Only then does Zhangjing notice the cherry blossoms drifting in the air around them. Some have fallen onto Yanjun's hair, forming a pastel pink crown against the ice-blue background. Zhangjing reaches up and plucks one off, Yanjun scrunching up his face at the unexpected action. The brunette giggles.

Pink and blue.

Hot and cold.

Positive and negative.

The imprint of the magnets in Zhangjing’s pocket brush against the back of his free hand. It feels thicker than he remembers, and his lips quirk up. They've stuck to one another.

 

 

Zhangjing and Yanjun were complete opposites, but like those magnetic hearts, maybe that is what destined them together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be side chengstin but i needed a girl in here to make things more complicated psjfjfsk and there you have it folks!! please leave comments! thank u for reading


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